


Always Meet Your Heroes

by orphan_account



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Episode: s16e01 Girls Disappeared, Fear of Discovery, First Meetings, Hero Worship, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-13 20:26:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19258585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sure, he had heard of ADA Rafael Barba.But nothing was compared to the real thing.





	Always Meet Your Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> First fic because I'm working my way through a few huge detailed AUs and I needed a break from them.  
> And what's easier than writing jerkin' off?
> 
> I'm.. Very sorry for how bad this might be, I busted it out at 2am and novody beta'ed it. Oh, well. Enjoy Greasy Carisi!

_Fuck._

Carisi's back hit the stall wall with a loud clatter as he shoved the lock into place and tried to yank down his slacks. It takes a couple of seconds fumbling with his belt, and his fly, until his pants were suitably tight around his mid thigh and he could wrap a hand around his poor, aching, neglected cock. 

This was insane. 

He pushes a white knuckled fist against his mouth and bites down on it, changing his mind for a moment only to free his mouth and spit on his palm a few times, dick throbbing with how utterly wrong and _filthy_ this was. 

It was hardly his fault.

Sure, he had heard of ADA Rafael Barba. He was at Fordham, for chrissake, his professor talked about Rafael Barba as if the guy was the Stephen Hawking of being a lawyer.

And sure, he had read up on Paley v Cain, and many of his other incredible cases, and caught him on the news with the Vice President, and marveled at how unusually attractive the guy was, as a lot of the ADAs he'd seen were a little old and balding with their face etched into a permanent grimace. 

But god, Carisi thought, as he stifled a groan with his knuckles again, the bathroom silent aside from the sound of skin on skin and his cheap shirt sleeve shifting against him - Nothing was compared to the real thing.

Barba had this _thing_ about him - this _aura_ , as Gina would describe it, and add something about him being a scorpio fire moon jupiter whatever-the-fuck - this air about him that just made Carisi want to drop to his knees and let himself choke on whatever he was hiding under the $2000 suits. He smelled amazing, for a start, some kind of woodsy expensive cologne that intoxicated him. He dressed in perfectly tailored suits that Carisi had no doubt were insanely expensive, shirts cut a little too close - tailored to a skinnier version of Barba, Sonny imagines - to show off the belly hidden under that cream jacket he was in. He was thick, and it was noticeable, and his ass was comparable to none. Carisi groans again at the thought, louder this time, a noise that sounds suspiciously like 'Barba', and his hand speeds up. He's greying, only slightly, with a strong nose and chubby cheeks and frown lines written into his features. He speaks with confidence, as if being around the squad actually wasn't worth his time, and the look he fixed Carisi with, up and down, like he was a new toy he could torment, went straight to his cock. 

He bends forward and swears, orgasm shuddering through him as he comes on the stall wall, and over his hand, taking long, wheezy breaths until he evens out and his chest stops heaving. He's sure he's got sweat stains on the Goodwill shirt he's in, hair even greasier, and he'll have to fix it before he can face the squad and go on whatever UC they're going to stick on the new guy. 

The stall unlocks with a click, and he straightens his shirt and pushes the door open, only to almost crap his pants on his exit.

There, in cream suited glory, leant against the sinks, is Barba. Arms folded, legs crossed, one eyebrow cocked in disbelief. 

"Uh." Says Sonny

"Uh." Barba repeats, and pushes himself off the sink. The back of Carisi's neck prickles with heat, and he realizes three things. One, his belt is hanging open alongside his fly, two, he _totally_ moaned Barba's name, and three, his spunk is all over his hand. Even the slowest detective could see this one out. His nostrils flare and he zips himself up, squeezes past Barba to the other sink, and pointedly avoids looking at the mirror or meeting Barba's eyes as he washes his hands. 

Horny as ever, his crotch throbs at the excitement of it all, and it takes every fibre of his being not to let his legs give out underneath him. 

"Look, it was - I didn't -" 

"You don't have to explain yourself, Detective..Donald?"

Sonny blanches at the idea that Barba even thought he looked like a Donald, and finally straightens up as he wipes his hands off. 

"Dominick. Uh, Carisi. People call me Sonny." 

Barba curls his lip at that, and nods curtly, stepping aside so Carisi can weave past him and out of the bathroom. Practically beetroot, he heads straight to the locker room to get his jacket, squeezes his eyes shut, and presses the heel of his palms into them until he sees stars. This is going to be one hell of a visit from HR, he thought, and he'd rather go work in his Dad's old patisserie than be kicked back down to beat duty.

Rubbing the excess sweat from his face with a coffee stained napkin, he tries very hard not to think about the thrill of being caught, Barba's large hands, or how he'd anchor himself on that chubby body while fucking him senseless. 

He's done for.


End file.
